


Missing Pieces

by pipisafoat



Category: In Plain Sight
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-29
Updated: 2011-05-29
Packaged: 2017-10-19 21:06:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/205211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipisafoat/pseuds/pipisafoat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary knows she's missing something as soon as she opens her eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missing Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for 2x15 [Don't Cry for Me, Albuquerque]

Mary knows she's missing something as soon as she opens her eyes. (Later, she'll be impressed that she wasn't missing everything, what with the fog of drugs surrounding her brain.) The first thing she notices is her mother, trying to erase a crossword puzzle, and someone who has to be Brandi, even though her hair didn't look like that the last time she saw her.

There are a couple moments where she wonders why they're in her room, doing the crossword, but then suddenly Jinx looks up and gasps.

"Mary! You're awake! How are you feeling?"

She glances around and realizes that this is not her bedroom. "Where..." she croaks, and her mother is there immediately with a glass of water.

"You're in the hospital," she whispers. "You got shot or something, and--"

"Where is he?" Mary interrupts, and it's Brandi who answers after a short pause.

"They made him wait outside because he technically isn't family, but I'll tell the doctors you asked for him and..."

She stops caring halfway through the speech and lets her eyes close.

* * *

  
She knows she's missing something as soon as she opens her eyes. Judging from the complicated machinery and the pain stampeding through her, she's in a hospital, but the guy sitting next to her doesn't look like much of a doctor. A date gone wrong, she wonders, but nobody would ever go with her to a hospital in that situation, anyway.

"Where..." she starts, and the man's head snaps up.

"Mary!" His exclamation drowns out the rest of her question, but he answers it anyway. "You're in the hospital. Do you remember what happened? Remember waking up earlier?"

"Water," she says instead, and when she doesn't sound like a ninety-year-old man anymore, she answers his questions on the off chance that he's a better doctor than he looks. "Woke up, but not before that," and his face scrunches up in confusion.

"No, you already woke up..."

"Where is he?" she interrupts.

The man smiles worriedly and hits the call button on her bed. "Okay, your doctor should be here soon."

"So you're just a nurse?" she asks. His face crashes almost as quickly as her energy, and she's slipping out of consciousness even as he replies.

"No ... your fiancé..."

"Where is he?" she slurs one last time before darkness drags her under.

* * *

  
She knows she's missing something when she wakes up to her boss handing her the room phone. "Here," he says shortly, holding it beside her face so she doesn't have to bother her IV.

"Where is he?" she asks in little more than a whisper, groaning in pain.

"Mer? Is that you?"

She nods weakly and moans again.

"Oh God, Mer, tell Stan to get you more painkillers. Or I'll tell him. You relax, okay? But try to stay awake. I'm on my way..."

The words trail away as the phone leaves her ear, and moments later, the burn of drugs entering her blood stream focuses her mind again.

"Stan..." He sets the phone back by her ear, and the voice is a little less frantic this time around.

"Did that help?"

The faint sound of horns honking comes through the phone, and she hopes Stan gives him hell for not thinking to use his lights. "Yeah," she manages. "Helps."

"Good. Good. I'm on my way, okay? Stay with me."

"Don't go towards the light?" she tries to joke, but a strangled sound of distress comes from her partner.

"Don't go towards the light," he echoes, strained. "Try to stay awake for me, Mer, please. I'm almost there. Just stay awake..."

But her eyes slide shut even as she starts the question: "Where..."

* * *

  
She wishes she were missing it the next time her eyes open, because it's dark, it smells terrible, her head appears to be in a cage, and shots are ricocheting all around her. She screams and tears at the IV in her arm, the plastic in front of her face, and she doesn't notice when the noise stops. Strong arms jerk her out of the dark tunnel into blinding light, and her brain lurches inside her skull as she scrambles desperately away, taking cover behind the first thing she can find.

The smell is still so intense _blood, splattering on her skin, misting on her face, coating her nostrils, her skin, her eyes her face herthroateverythingeverywhere_ and she's dry-heaving, peripherally noticing that the screaming has stopped.

Hands reach for her, and she flails, falling over as she tries to scramble away again. "Your stitches," she hears, and " **Move!** Let me..." and then arms are around her, soothing instead of restraining. She jerks away instinctively, but when the arms don't try to stop her or pull her back, her body collapses back into them, back against a hard chest and a soft shirt.

"It's okay... it's okay... it's okay..." he's whispering, and when she relaxes a little bit more, the words change. "The doctor needs to check your stitches, okay? He's just going to open your gown and make sure none of them popped. You're okay, though. Just sit here. Just relax..."

The words fade into a quiet murmur of sound, and she leaves her eyes squeezed tightly shut, because she knows that if she opens them, she'll just look at her stomach. The sudden pressure against tender flesh makes her gasp in pain, sends her hurtling backwards through time. She calls "GUN!" urgently, "Go join your friends. Let's not get crazy, I don't want to fight you" commandingly, and finally "Where is he?" weakly, and she embraces the darkness when it finally steals her memories.

* * *

  
Mary isn't sure if she's missing something when she opens her eyes. There's Brandi, talking to Raph in the hallway, and there's Marshall, curled awkwardly in a chair, asleep. He looks like hell, but she figures she's the one who got shot in the gut and slowly drags her pillow out from under her head.

"Hey," she calls softly. He grunts and shifts but doesn't wake up. "Hey," a little louder, and when that fails too, she tosses the pillow at his face. It falls short, hitting his knees, but he jerks upright in an instant, hand flying to his hip.

"About time you woke up," she grouses, not trying very hard to keep the smile off her face.

"About time you did," he replies, scooting his chair closer. "Do you remember what happened?"

She struggles to sit up as he replaces the pillow, but he pushes her gently back down. "The getting shot or the flipping out during what I presume was an MRI?"

"That's my-- That's a good sign." His smile seems oddly strained when it appears, a moment late.

"So what are you doing here?"

He flinches, though she doesn't notice it right away. "Where should I be?"

"Out there." She waves vaguely towards the window. "Finding the guy who shot me. Tying him up in your basement for me to shoot later. Doing your job. Someone else can hold my hand."

Marshall stands abruptly and shoves his chair back towards the wall. "Already got him," he replies, almost in a monotone. "Not in my basement, though."

"Yeah? Then where is he?" she finds herself calling to his back.

He pauses just outside the door. "In the morgue."

* * *

  
"I'm obviously missing something here," she tells Raph as he tries to make her take the diamond ring.

"We're engaged," he repeats, catching her hand to slide it on her finger. She jerks away from him and shakes her head.

"Yeah, but why? You didn't knock me up or anything."

He gapes at her, momentarily distracted from his quest. "No, I ... we love each other, Mary."

"Uh huh."

The low murmur of the channel 13 news accompanies her disbelieving stare, and Raph eventually shakes his head and retreats to the chair. "The doctor says you'll remember in time."

"In time as in eventually, or in time as in there's a certain day I need to remember by?" She doesn't miss his glance at Brandi, who pops her gum and shrugs at him without looking up from her magazine. "Raphael."

He hesitates again, glancing back at Brandi. "Our wedding."

"Yeah, right."

"People get engaged to get married," he says in the manner of explaining something to a slow child. "It'd be nice if you could remember love before then."

She stares at him, holds up a hand when he opens his mouth again. "Get out of here, Raph," she says, but she says it gently. He starts to speak again, thinks better of it, leans in to kiss her, thinks better of that too, and wordlessly goes out the door.

"Don't ask me," Brandi says as the door closes behind him. "I only know his side of the story. Ask Marshall or something."

"I would if I had any clue where he was," Mary muttered to herself, flipping the TV to cartoons.

* * *

  
"Did you miss me?"

Mary rolls her eyes and holds out her hand for the chocolate bar Stan's brought. "I missed this, for sure."

He sits on the edge of her bed as she rips into the candy, looking away during her almost orgasmic moan. "What's news?" he asks, catching sight of the duffle bag by the door.

"I'm getting sprung tomorrow," she announces proudly through a mouth of chocolate. "Finally going home. Doc says it won't be too much longer before I'm back at work."

"No need to rush."

"Plenty of need to rush," Mary counters, looking pointedly at her sister in the corner, bopping along to her too-loud iPod. "I don't even care if I don't get to go back in the field yet."

Stan nods. "Well, I'll be glad when you can. Marshall keeps leaving his backup at the office."

"So he's not working with his partner?" Her boss doesn't miss the hesitation, and he sighs.

"When's the last time you talked to him?"

She shrugs and pops another square of chocolate into her mouth. "Weeks ago."

* * *

  
"You're missing the point!" Raphael finally raises his voice in frustration, though he checks himself immediately. "I live here now, too."

"You're missing my point - you're not sleeping in this bed with me. You're not sleeping on my couch, either. I don't care where you go, but you're not staying here."

"I don't have anywhere else to go. I shouldn't have to go anywhere else. This my home."

Mary shrugs. "Fine. Stay here."

"Thank you. Can I get you a glass of water or anything?"

"You can get me my shoes." She grabs her cell phone off the bedside table and dials a number. "Hey. Can you come get me? No. No, I'll explain later. Just get me out of here. See you in ten minutes."

Raph hands a pair of tennis shoes to her despite the look on his face that says he clearly thinks this is a bad idea. "So where are you going?"

"Out."

"With who?"

"With whom."

"Who's that?"

Mary pauses for a second, then shakes her head. "My friend. We'll talk about this later, but if I were you, I'd start looking for an apartment."

"Mary..."

She holds up a hand to silence his complaints as she walks outside to wait by the road for her partner.

* * *

  
"I didn't think you'd miss me," Marshall says quietly, fingers curled tightly around the neck of a beer he's barely touched.

Mary nods. "You were there anyway. Brandi told me how you sat in the hall, watched me when I was asleep."

"She can't keep anything a secret, can she?" He sighs at her half-laugh. "I missed you when I tried to actually stay away."

"Good to know." She smiles to herself and takes the bottle from his hands, puts it on the coffee table. "Come here."

It's like taming a wild animal sometimes, hugging Marshall when he's the one who needs it. He tries to shy away at the last second, but when she finally pulls him against her, he takes one shuddering breath after another before squeezing her just this side of too tight.

"You couldn't have done anything even if you'd been there," she tells him, hoping against hope that this is what's bothering him.

"Do you really remember everything now?"

Her mind races to keep up with his. "I think so, why?"

He shrugs, answers slowly. "You know why I wasn't there."

"Yeah, you were on a date. How'd it go?" Mary strokes his hair as he starts to pull away, and he settles again with his head on her shoulder.

"You know, the usual. Drinks, dinner, me running out suddenly, shouting something about a hospital over my shoulder...." He glances up at her, looks away when she returns his gaze. "I just mailed her a check the other day to pay her back for dinner."

Mary laughs. "I hope you at least called her to explain that you don't usually run out and leave the check for your date."

"I did," he replies quietly.

"And she wasn't up for another date?"

He shrugs again. "She was. I wasn't. My best friend nearly died."

"Yeah, I noticed. Still, you could have gone. It's not like I wasn't surrounded by doctors."

"I was busy."

"Witness problems?"

Marshall shrugs yet again and sits up. "Everything's fine."

"Bullshit."

He sighs and gets up, walks to the window, braces his palms on the sill, and stares outside, though she's sure he isn't seeing anything. "I can't tell you what I was doing."

"Jesus, Marshall, are we partners or what?"

"Partners can still testify against each other," he answers without turning around.

She gets up as quietly as she can, sneaks up behind him, and sets a hand gently on his shoulder blade. "The Twinkie thing's bullshit, you know. Whatever it is, if you don't tell me, it's going to eat at you. I know you, Marshall. Not telling me is the same as lying to me, and there are no lies in a partnership - isn't that what you say?"

"I found him." He finally turns to face her, and she's never seen the look on his face before. Satisfaction, fear, and sadness. "I found him and killed him."

"Him?"

Marshall's eyes flick to her stomach, and he nods. "He apparently didn't approve of white people in his neighborhood."

"What did you do?" She feels almost like she's taming this wild animal again and flashes back to an analogy in a dingy gas station in the middle of the summer, where Marshall was the one keeping his voice soft to calm her.

"Dropped him in someone else's territory and watched them pick him apart."

She strokes his hair again. "Thank you."

"Thank you?" His eyes jerk back up to hers. "Thanks for putting in the awkward position of being an accessory to a crime or turning in my partner, Marshall?"

"Thanks for having my back no matter what."

"Jesus."

Mary pulls him back towards to the couch, relaxes into it with the smallest wince.

"Sometimes I don't know you at all."

She rolls her head to face him. "You're my best friend. I'd say you know me pretty well."

He shrugs and sits back down beside her. "Sometimes you're like that M&M puzzle Stan gave me for Christmas."

"The impossible circle of M&Ms where even if you had a picture, it wouldn't help, because it's all the same thing?"

"The one where you never know if there's a piece missing until it's too late."

Mary reaches out and takes her partner's hand. "Two big differences you need to remember."

"Yeah?"

"For one, if you're missing pieces, you can dump actual candy on top and nobody'll notice."

Marshall grins and squeezes her hand. "And the second?"

"I'm made of tougher stuff of cardboard."


End file.
